Love Found in an Alley
by IsleofSkye
Summary: Brennan, after a night out with Ange and Roxie, get's hurt. Can she overcome what happened to her, or will this drive her back into herself? Takes place mid-Fourth season. I don't own Bones. FOX, unfortunately, does.
1. Chapter 1

Brennan had decided that there was no use fighting Angela anymore. For several weekends in a row she'd told her that she really had to get caught up on Limbo cases or there'd be hell to pay. But, Angela was starting to get miffed at being pushed off so often, even Brennan could see that. So, she called Ange.

"Sweetie, if you're going to ask me to come in and look at some rotting corpse, can it _please_ wait until morning? "

"No, I was calling to ask what you were doing tonight."

"OH!" Brennan could hear the surprise in her voice. "Well, why didn't you say that first, Bren?"

"Well you answered the phone telling me you didn't want to work tonight, so I really didn't have a chance." Angela totally ignored her.

"You want to come clubbing with us tonight? There's this new club that just opened, and I guess it's basically amazing. How about you put on something nice, something you can dance in, and I'll pick you up in about 20 minutes?"

"Umm, sure Ange. I'll try and be ready." She heard a click through the speaker and hung up the phone. She sighed, trying to figure out exactly what she wanted to wear. She was still pawing through her closet when she heard a knock on her door.

"Ange, I can't find anything to wear. You're usually the one that picks this kind of stuff out for me."

"I know sweetie." She breezed through the apartment to Brennan's room. Brennan sat the on the bed for 15 watching Ange dig through every article of clothing that she owned. She'd pull something out, contemplate for a second, raise an eyebrow, than throw it behind her shaking her head muttering something about spinsters. She could tell that tomorrow morning she was going to be folding and hanging for a while. Angela finally settled on a mid-thigh length skirt with a nice, lacy black camisole.

"Aren't I going to be cold?" She questioned. But Angela answered her by just holding up a thin, light blue sweater that brought out her eyes.

"See, the trick is to wear something that you can stuff in your purse. You're going to be hot on the dance floor. Now, for shoes." She grabbed up a pair of black heels. "These are hot! Where'd you get these?"

"Umm, I wore those out in Vegas when I adopted the Roxy persona. This is the dress that Booth picked out to go with them."

"Holy shit, Booth picked this dress out for you? Woah."

"What's wrong with it?" Brennan liked the dress. She also liked the memories that went along with it. Booth smacking her on the ass, or the way he wrapped his arm around her. The best memory though, was the way his mouth dropped when she walked out of the bathroom. She really enjoyed that she'd made him speechless. His wit was apparently too slow to come up with something to stop him from looking like a fish out of water.

"Sweetie, there's absolutely _nothing_ wrong with the dress. This is probably the hottest thing I've ever pulled out of your closet! Was this what he was talking about when he said 'that's hot'?" She looked at Brennan with probing eyes, watching for any signs that she might avoid the question.

"OH, yeah," she answered shyly, dropping her head to look at the carpet. "That was what he was talking about. I couldn't reach all the way around to the zipper, so he had to zip it up for me."

"Wow. I would've paid money to see that." She watched Angela put the dress back into the closet, tucking it right at the edge. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her.

"Angela, when we were flying to China, remember when we found that women in the oven?" Angela just nodded her head and kept shuffling through Brennan's shoes. "Well, I need a magnifying glass but there wasn't one on board. So, Booth found these horn-rimmed glasses that were pretty thick, and they did the job well, too. I think the woman's eyesight must've been almost legally considered blind…" she trailed off when Ange gave her one of those 'where the hell is this story going' looks.

"Anyway, Booth walked into the little kitchen area and found me with the glasses on. And, he said something that I didn't understand. And, you being who you are, I figured you could tell me what it might've meant."

"Alright, shoot."

"He said, 'Now, what I want you to do is take off your glasses, shake out your hair and say Mr. Booth, do you know the penalty for an overdue book?'" She looked at Ange and found her mouth hanging open.

"What?!" She started to worry now because several seconds had passed by, and Ange's mouth was still hanging wide. Maybe she shouldn't have told Angela.

"Um, sweetie, that was basically him propositioning you."

"Propositioning me for wha…" Then her eyes widened as understanding flowed through her mind.

"Yeah… I told you he liked you." She smiled her 'I told you so' smile, and handed Brennan black heels.

"What do I do Ange? Now I'm going to be all awkward knowing that he said that to me. I mean yes, ours is a friendship laden with sexual tension. I'd have to be an imbecile not to notice it. But, I mean, there's a line. A line he drew I might add!" She threw her hands up in exacerbation.

"Well, you can just act like I didn't explain it to you. You are very good at compartmentalizing. So, explain to me why it's going to be awkward?"

"It's Booth!" She said, thinking that explained everything.

"Yes, it is. If you can compartmentalize about everything else, why can't you about this?"

"I…" She paused. Why couldn't she? Why was it different than any other man she'd known. _It's Booth,_ she thought. _He isn't like other men._

"So, do you think that he really, you know, likes me like that?" She wrinkled her forehead at how imprecise that sentence sounded. But, if she said the L word out loud, then it'd be real. And, if it was real, she didn't know what she was going to do. She just couldn't wrap her head around it.

"I think he more than just likes you, Bren." She looked at Ange, panic evident in her eyes. She started to think about all of the times when Booth had leaned across the table at the diner, invading her personal space. She remembered how he reacted whenever he'd seen one of her boyfriends. She remembered how he told her that 'everything happens eventually'. She remembered when he'd told her about breaking the laws of physics. She remembered how he told her that there was someone for everyone.

"Oh my god."

Angela had watched the myriad of emotions flow across Brennan's face. Confusion seemed to be dominant. But after a few minutes, realization dawned on her face.

"Oh my god."

"I see you've finally figured it out for yourself."

"Ange, what do I do? I can't mess this up."

"Well, before you can mess _it _up, you have to figure out what _it_ is." Angela watched as she knit her eyebrows together, trying to figure out exactly how she felt. Angela had a better idea.

"Alright. Well, how about we go out, get relatively hammered, and you can soul search then."

"But, then I'll be drunk. How will I arrive at any logical and well reasoned conclusions if I'm barely coherent?"

"Sweetie, have you ever heard the saying 'A drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts.'?"

"No."

"It means that being drunk loosens the tongue." She caught the beginnings of 'I don't know what that means' forming on her lips. "It means alcohol lets you say stuff and feel stuff that you wouldn't normally let bubble to the surface. It makes you drop your defenses. Now, I'm not saying that this should be something you do all the time. But, I think that it'll help you at least right now."

"Okay. Let's go."

She tried to enjoy the club. But, it was hard with everything going on in her mind. She couldn't quite settle it down. Besides, even though she'd called Angela to hang out, she forgot that she'd be a third wheel. Her and Roxie were dancing out on the floor, drawing more than one jealous man's eye.

She hadn't really planned on getting drunk. She'd listened to Angela's reasoning and agreed to placate her. When she arrived, however, she felt the need to get a little tipsy, hoping that it would help quiet the thoughts rampaging through her head. If Booth were here, he'd see how her brow was constantly wrinkled, and try and make a joke to lighten the mood. He always did that, just notice when her thoughts were getting the best of her.

She sighed. She'd begun realize just how much Booth seemed to occupy her thoughts. More than once tonight she'd found herself comparing men in the club to him. Either they were shorter than him, or they didn't have his exemplary muscle definition, or they smelled wrong. She shook her head as she sucked down the last of her fifth beer, than sighed. She was starting to feel a little woozy, so she decided that maybe it was time to head home. Tomorrow was Saturday, that meant a whole day of solitude at the Jeffersonian. This idea both excited and dismayed her. She loved being able to get lost in her work for hours and get plenty of work done. She walked, or slightly stumbled to where Angela and Roxie were dancing.

"Ange, I'm going to head home. I've got a ton of stuff to do in the morning. Besides, I'm actually pretty tired."

"Okay sweetie. Do you want a ride?"

"Nope, I'm going to go out and grab a cab. Night Ange, night Roxie." She walked towards the door, pulling her sweater out of her purse. She had a feeling that once she stepped outside, she'd be cold. She stepped outside and started fighting with her sweater. It was being very frustrating. The sleeves seemed to be fighting back, twisting in when she wanted them to twist out. She almost groaned in annoyance as she donned it, only to find it inside out. She didn't have time to turn it right side out, because at that precise moment someone yanked her into the alley beside the club and smashed her face off the brick wall.


	2. Chapter 2

The first thought that registered in her mind was that she was freezing. She could feel goose bumps covering her whole body. She subconsciously reached out to grasp her blanket and pull it around her. The next thought that registered was that she was lying facedown on the ground and that was why she couldn't reach her quilt. What the hell had happened to her? She rolled over and opened her eyes. It was still dark out, and for that she was particularly grateful, as her head was pounding. She reached up and ever so gently touched her forehead. When she pulled her hand away, it was covered in blood.

Her heart rate accelerated as she recalled her head slamming into the wall. She sat up quickly, and regretted it. Her head swam with white hot pain, and the alcohol in her system didn't help. She forced herself to her hands and knees with a groan. She needed to find her phone. Before she moved, she tried to just listen, to hear if her attacker was in the alley with her. Her whole body was tense as she tried to decipher the sounds she heard around her. There was still music coming from the club. She could hear traffic passing by, however not as heavy as usual, telling her it was probably pretty late. Other than her ragged breathing, she couldn't' hear anything that said there was someone else there. She started to crawl forward.

She groped around in the dark until she found her purse. Well, she found the bag itself, the contents were strewn about the grubby alley. She found her found phone near her wallet, which was totally devoid of everything, even change. She was surprised when she hit a button and the screen lit up, indicating that her assailant hadn't smashed it.

She lifted it with seriously shaky hands and held down the number two. She sighed audibly when the screen said "Connected Booth Cell", than leaned against the wall.

"Booth." She almost smiled at the sheer familiarity of the greeting, but then promptly burst into tears. She hadn't even seen them coming, they just poured down her cheeks, the salt stinging the abrasions all over her face.

"Booth?" Her voice came out shaky and she hated it. She should've called the police first. But, that hadn't even crossed her mind until now. All she wanted was the reassuring voice of her partner telling her she'd be alright. She needed his hands to pick her out of the grime on the ground because she didn't think she could do it herself.

"Bones? Are you alright? Where are you?" He'd heard the vulnerability and tears in her voice and had dropped the book he'd been reading, his eyes opening wide as panic raged through his body.

"Well, I'm propped up against a wall in alley which I assume is beside the club Angela and Roxie took me to."

"What?! Why the hell are you _propped up in alley?!_" His voice almost raised an octave at the end of the sentence.

"Umm, I walked out of the club, and I'd had a few drinks, well it was more like five, and I was struggling with my sweater. Out of nowhere, I was yanked into what I believe is the alley I am in now and my face was slammed off the wall. I woke up, and then I called you. Now, you know what I know."

"Holy shit. Just stay where you are, I'm coming." She could hear rustling as he threw on some clothes and ran out of his apartment. She could feel the blood dripping down the side of her face.

"Booth, I'm going to set my phone down while I staunch the bleeding."

"Oh my god, Bones. You're bleeding? How bad?!" He was starting to freak out.

"My head was slammed off a wall, so pretty badly. But head wounds always bleed heavily, even if they're superficial. I'm probably going to have a rather large bump on my forehead, though." She sighed. "I'm tired."

"Hey! Stay with me, you can sleep all you want when we get you back to your place. Right now, use that big brain of yours and find something to keep you awake. I'll be there in a second. "

"Okay." She swiped blood off her eyebrow before it could drip down. However, that only helped for the moment, as it trickled down again. "The blood is starting to run into my eyes, so hold on a sec." She set the phone down and struggled back out of her sweater, crying out as she discovered new wounds on her back. She balled it up and pressed it gingerly to her forehead.

"I'm back," she said as she pressed the phone to her ear. "Booth, now I'm cold."

"I'm almost there. Just hang on." She listened to him breath heavily. In the background she could hear the sirens going and the tires squealing as he took corners too fast.

"Okay, I'm at the club, do you know which side you're on?"

"I think it's the left hand side, but I can't be sure. I heard music coming from the right hand side of the alley." As she said that, she saw his flashlight bobbing down the alley as he sprinted to her. He unceremoniously dropped to his knees in front of her. He looked at her tear and blood stained face, her ripped shirt, and her skirt riding dangerously high on her thighs. His hand reached down and gently swept his fingers under a rather large cut on her thigh that angled up.

"Bones, my god." He pulled her chin up and looked at the scrapes on her face. "Here." He pulled his jacket off and wrapped it gently around her shoulders.

"Booth, I'm sorry for dragging you out here in the middle of the night. Well, I think it's in the middle of the night. What time is it?"

"It's around 1:30 am, but god, don't worry about it! Holy shit, you're sitting here bleeding in an alley, and you're apologizing for dragging me out in the middle of the night?"

"I don't know…" She shook her head noncommittally, not really knowing what to say. _What do you say in a situation like this?_ She thought. _It's not as if I can ask him, oh how was your night? _She winced as she snorted at her own pathetic attempt at sarcasm.

"Do you think you can stand, baby?" She glanced up as sharply as her injuries would allow at his use of a pet name. Despite everything, her body warmed. Her injuries, while they were painful, weren't in the fore front of her mind. She wouldn't let them be. This was just another horrible, unfortunate event that had happened in her life. She just shut it out.

Or, at least, she was trying to. But, with Booth being here, calling her baby, and the look of sheer horror coming from his eyes, it was hard to compartmentalize. Actually, it was impossible. She started sobbing and shaking. She couldn't help it. She fought to keep her emotions reined in, but the way he gathered her up in his arms, stroking her hair, whispering in her ear, it just gushed out her. Booth rocked her in that disgusting, dirty alley until she fell asleep, the remaining alcohol in her system taking effect.

Booth had been reading a book on notorious mob hit men when he'd received Brennan's phone call. He glanced at the caller ID and smiled when he answered.

"Booth."

"Booth?" _Bones? _He heard her voice break and quiet sobs wrack her small frame. She sounded so broken, and that scared the shit out of him.

"Bones? Are you alright? Where are you?" He heard her take a few deep breaths before she answered.

"Well, I'm propped up against a wall in alley which I assume is beside the club Angela and Roxie took me to."

_Holy fuck. _"What!? Why the hell are you _propped up in an alley?"_ He was going to kill someone. The only other time he'd felt rage like this pouring through his system is when he found that Epps had gotten to his son. He started shaking when she explained how she'd gotten in that predicament.

"Umm, I walked out of the club, and I'd had a few drinks, well it was more like five, and I was struggling with my sweater. Out of nowhere, I was yanked into what I believe is the alley I am in now and my face was slammed off the wall. I woke up, and then I called you. Now, you know what I know."

He listened to her state all this like she was rattling off facts about a case. He could tell that this was going to be bad when the shit actually hit the fan.

"Holy shit. Just stay where you are, I'm coming." He jumped out of bed and threw on jeans that he'd been to lazy to pick up off the floor. He pulled on a t-shirt off the top of the hamper, grabbed his wallet, his creds*, and his keys and was out the door.

The rest of the conversation was just as bad. She was fucking bleeding to death in an alley. He squealed to a stop outside of the club, and ran to the side she thought she was on. He took a flashlight he'd grabbed from this dash and started searching. What he saw, when his light alighted on her crumpled form made his knees give out.

He collapsed next to her, trying to catalogue the host of injuries that were made apparent in the beam. He wanted to throw up. In fact, he almost did when he found a massive gash on her thigh that pointed up underneath her skirt. The skirt itself was riding extremely high on her thighs, giving him a view of milky skin that was riddled with bruises and cuts. _My god, what if she was…_ He wouldn't even let himself complete the thought. What she did next shocked him. She actually apologized for dragging him out in the middle of the night. As if he cared! He told her she shouldn't apologize at all, that there was absolutely no reason for it.

"Do you think you can stand, baby?" The pet name fell off his tongue before he could stop it, and it seemed to be her undoing. She dissolved into sobs. They shook her small frame. All he could do was pull her into his arms and rock her, whispering nonsensical words into her ear to calm her down. He couldn't believe this. He took in the state of her, and how her purse had its insides turned out. Her wallet was empty. From what he could tell, she had just been mugged.

He looked down at Bones, as her eyes slowly started to blink closed. He didn't know how she could do it, fall asleep in his arms on the ground while her head had yet to stop bleeding. _Well, _he thought, _she did say something about five beers. That probably is dulling the pain, making it easier to tolerate, and helping her sleep. _He sighed, knowing this was going to be a long time before she felt herself again. She'd try. She would want to go back to work as soon as the hospital cleared her. She'd keep going, pretending that it hadn't happened. It's what she'd done her whole life. This time though, he was going to be there. He'd been the one she called when she was hurt. He'd been the one that had found her bleeding. He was going to be there when she woke up in the hospital.

**A/N: * This is short for credentials. It's cop short speak for their badge and ID card and the special wallet they come in. And I know this because my father is a cop and that's what him and all his buddies call 'em. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! Here's the third chapter. I've been kind of at a loss as to what to write, or rather, how to write this chapter. I wanted to stay true to Brennan's character traits without making the story seem implausible. I hope I got it right. Or, at least close. **

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed. When I first started writing fic, I didn't think that reviews would mean much so me. Woo, I was wrong. Reviews totally make my day!!!!!**

She woke up to the sounds of people moving around her. Her eyes were heavy, forcing her to keep them closed. She felt as though she were slowly swimming towards the top of a deep pool. The sounds are her were muted and light was filtering through her eyelids. Finally, she broke through the top, and opened her eyes. Immediately, she groaned and closed them again. The light was very bright, making her throbbing head, throb all the more. She groaned again when she tried to lift her arms to rub the sleep out of her eyes and accidentally tugged on her IV.

Wait, an IV? Where was she?

"Bones?" She heard Booth's voice next to her right side. "Bones, are you awake?"

"Yes, Booth, I am. Although, I seem to be having some trouble keeping my eyes open. Where am I?"

"Well, you're in the hospital."

"What? Why am I here?" She opened her eyes now, ignoring the added pain in her skull. She took in her surroundings, noticing the IV that was hooked to an IV stand next to her bed. Her room seemed to be some pinkish color, salmon maybe? There was a curtain dividing the room in half, blocking, what she assumed was another bed. There were two chairs next to her bed, one on either side. The one on her right was occupied by Booth. He wasn't as fresh looking as he usually was. He was wearing jeans and a rumpled t-shirt, and his eyes look tired and slightly red. She noticed that he was holding her hand tightly in his.

"You don't remember?" He looked surprised. She didn't like this, waking up in the hospital, not remembering when or how she got here. She searched her memory and found nothing but a black hole. The last thing she remembered was leaving the lab around eight.

"No. I don't have any recollection of how or why I'm here." This only seemed to further agitate him. His expression grew a little darker as his jaw clenched. She was starting to get slightly scared. "Why am I here Booth?"

"Well." He stopped. She watched his forehead wrinkle as if he was thinking really hard. She was starting to get really worried now. Never had Booth avoided her questions like this. It actually looked as if he were in physical pain.

"Booth, please. You're starting to scare me." She was desperate now. She had to know what was scaring Booth so much. "Have I been in… a coma?" She visibly shook at this possibility. She hated to think about how much time had passed. What if she'd been out for a long time? What if her position at the Jeffersonian had been filled? She started to breathe short, fast breaths as all these thoughts flitted through her head.

"What? No! I'm sorry. I'm not trying to scare you. I'm trying to word this delicately. I can have Angela tell you if you want. I mean, she's better at this sort of thing."

"Please! Just tell me." She squeezed that hand that was holding her, adding her left hand atop his. "Please. I trust you; I want to hear it from you." He sighed and swiped his hand over his face, pausing to rub his eyes. He let go of her hand, and she almost cried out from the loss. But, she was quickly placated when he climbed on the bed, causing her to scoot over to make room for him. He grabbed both of her hands with his, squeezing them reassuringly and began.

"Okay. From what I gathered from Angela, you guys decided to go out to some new club. She and Roxie were dancing when you decided to leave. You were outside of the club, when…" His voice broke. Oh god, she was terrified. He cleared his throat and began again. "When you were grabbed and dragged into the alley next to the club. Your face was smashed off the wall. That's when you passed out, and that's why your face is so bruised and swollen." As he said that, she raised her hand and gingerly touched her forehead. However, her forehead was much further out than it was supposed to be, causing her eyes to water as she hit it harder than she intended. She cried out.

"Well, what'd you expect?" Booth said. She could tell he was trying to lighten the intense situation. He forced a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He grabbed her hand again, and this time tugged it into his lap. "No more feeling wounds until after the story."

"Okay." She stopped struggling to free her hand, and sat quietly.

"Anyway, you apparently woke up after a while, because you found your phone and called me."

"I did?"

"Yes. You told me you were propped up in an alley and that your forehead was bleeding pretty badly. Well, I got there… fast, with some serious help from the sirens. I found you against the wall bleeding like you said. You had your sweater pressed against your forehead, trying to stop the bleeding. You actually apologized to me; you said that you'd dragged me out in the middle of the night or some nonsense. Which was ridiculous, by the way. There's no place I would've rather been. Well, I would've rather have had you somewhere else obviously, than in some dingy alley…" He blushed slightly as he realized how that sounded. "Erm... Whatever, you know what I mean. You were pretty beaten up though, and obviously shaken. So I picked you up and… well, held you until you fell asleep. I attribute the sleeping part to the fact that you were crying, exhausted, and had five beers."

"Five?" Wow. She must've been having fun. "What was I doing?"

"According to Ange, you were sitting at the bar in deep thought. Apparently you weren't even dancing or anything, just sitting and knocking 'em back."

"That's all? I just got beaten up in an alley?"She knew it wasn't good, but it was way better than what she'd been expecting.

"Well, you were mugged. Your purse was totally cleaned out; your wallet was devoid of anything, including receipts. Even your license was gone. Everything from it was strewn about the alley, like the person stood there and shook it onto the ground, then dug through the mess."

"I admit this isn't exactly the way I pictured my night ending. Actually, I can't remember anything besides leaving work this evening. But it's not that bad. I can recuperate at home. And, I'd like to go home now. I need a hot shower and several hours of restful sleep."

"That's not the end of the story Temperance." Her head jerked up at the use of her given name. He rarely used it, and when he did, it was always seemed to be in a less than ideal situation.

"Okay…" She looked up at him, watching his expression become more pained.

"Um, well, when we got to the hospital, the doctor gave you some painkillers, to help your head in advance, just in case you woke up. Anyway, they started their examination, concluding that most of your wounds weren't that bad, just, uhh what'd he say? Oh, superficial lacerations. Then, I pointed out the gash on your thigh." She yanked her hands out of his and pulled the blanket up. She could tell where this was headed, and she didn't like it one bit. "Hey! What did I say about feeling wounds?" He snatched her hands up this time pulling her into his lap, not just her hands. He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her to his chest. She started to shake. This is going to be bad. I almost don't want to know.

"Booth, just tell me." She tried to pull away from him, so she could look into his face. But, he just held her tighter.

"When the doctors started to look at your scratches and bruises on your legs, they discovered something else. While you were unconscious, your attacker… he…he raped you." She stiffened. She knew it was going to be bad. Rape though? That hadn't even been on her list.

For a few minutes, she just sat there in abject horror, her whole body stiff in Booth's ever tender grasp. This wasn't who she was. She wasn't the type of woman who gets dragged into an alley and raped. She was self-reliant, independent, strong, and this, this stuff just didn't happen to her. After her parents had left, and she'd been thrust into the foster system, she hadn't had any control over which family she went with. Sometimes, it'd be a really shitty one, where the "father" would hit her. Not punch her or knock her around, but maybe slap her when she broke a plate. Stuff like that made her feel worthless and she knew that she wasn't. From that point on, as soon as she got away from that foster family, she knew her life would be more than that. She wasn't going to be one of those people, those people that feel sorry for their childhood and use it as a reason to be a drain on society. She was going to make her own life. Since she graduated from high school, she'd made sure that she wouldn't be powerless again.

She couldn't stop the sob that ripped from her throat as her shock slowly subsided into realization. After everything in her whole life, her karate classes, her Ph. D.'s, everything had failed her in the end. She still felt like that 15 year old girl when she woke up and found Russ gone. She still felt like the helpless little girl who couldn't stand her ground against a slap from her foster father. She hadn't felt like this in almost 20 years. However, there was one difference. Actually, it was a major difference. While she'd been alone all those years ago, fighting within her own mind to build walls to keep herself safe. This time, there was a strong pair of arms wrapped around her. She could feel his hands slowly rubbing up and down her arm, as he whispered reassuring words to her. Surprisingly, despite the cruelness of the world, he touch and words were actually lending her strength.

She swiped her hands underneath her eyes. Crying doesn't help the situation at all. She set her jaw, and wrestled her clinical detachment to the surface.

Booth was totally in awe of this woman. Here he'd told her one of the hardest things he'd ever had to tell anyone, and she only needed about five minutes to adjust to the reality. Then she asked him questions about whether or not all the proper precautions had been taken in case of STD's and unwanted pregnancy. He explained to her that they had all been taken care of, but that there was still a chance that those things could occur. She nodded at his words, absorbing the information, analyzing it, then retracting back into her own thoughts.

He watched her closely. Seeing as she wasn't even paying attention to him anymore, he could watch his fill. He'd shifted back to his chair after she'd stopped sobbing. Her muscles had tensed and stiffened. He took that as his cue that his comfort was no longer needed.

From what he could tell, as he sat there and watched her think, she was putting on a front. He'd known her long enough to be able to tell when she thought she needed to be tough. She still didn't quite grasp that around him, she could drop the prickly exterior.

He sighed inwardly. He wondered if she knew how beautiful she was. Despite all the bruises marring her smooth, white skin, he still thought that she was breathtaking. He'd long ago come to terms with the fact that he could never have her. He'd told her that people like them, in high-risk situations, couldn't cross that line and have a relationship. However, all of that hadn't stopped him from admiring her from afar. A fact that her father had picked up on, he believed. _Wow, here she is sitting in a hospital bed beaten and battered and… and all you can think about is how pretty she is? _He snorted at his stupidity.

"Booth?" He shook his head and came out of his daze to find her looking at him pointedly.

"Huh?"

"You made a noise."

"Oh." He coughed in embarrassment. He'd been caught musing. "Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"Nothing. Sorry, hospitals tend to drive me a bit wonky. I'm just in them too much. Comes with the territory I guess."

"I don't know what that means." He smiled. He was glad that there were just some things you couldn't change.

"It means they tend to knock me off my game. What were you thinking?" It was out of his mouth before he really had a chance to edit that question in his head. Of course he knew what she was thinking. At least he didn't ask her how she was doing… If he'd done that, he might as well have stuck his foot all the way down his throat.

"I was wondering when I'll be able to go home." She didn't look at him when she said this. Instead, she focused on picking on a loose thread in the crappy hospital blanket. His eyes widened. He hadn't expected that.

"Um, I think that the doctor said that they wanted to keep you overnight for observation."

"Oh. I guess that makes sense. Did he say whether or not I had a concussion?"

"Yeah, a mild one. They just want to make sure is all." He honestly didn't know where to bring the conversation next. He could ask about work, but then she'd ask him to get her laptop and cell phone so she could try and work from her hospital bed. He could ask her about her Dad. _There's an idea_, he thought.

"How…"

"Can I see Angela? Is she here?" He closed his mouth quickly, and nodded his head.

"Yes, she's here. I'll go track her down for you." He tried to let the sting of that roll off his back. He'd offered earlier to go get Angela for her. It's only natural when something like this happened that she'd want another woman. It bothered him that he didn't know what to say to make the situation right. He wondered if he'd ever be able to say anything to make her feel better. He knew this wasn't a thing he could just make go away with a few well chosen words.

"Thanks, Booth. For everything." Again she couldn't look him in the eye, like it was painful for her. His chest hurt to think that she might use this to push him away. She didn't realize how much he needed her. He wanted to be there for her during this.

"Bones, listen to me. I promise you that I will always be there for you when you need me. Whether it's the middle of the day, or the middle of the night. You're my best friend Bones. That's what I'm here for." He grasped the bottom of her chin lightly, mindful of her wounds, and made her meet his eyes. "Guy hug?" He smiled his charm smile in a last ditch attempt to lighten her mood, as much as it could be lightened. Surprisingly, it worked. She smiled, albeit a small one, but it reached her eyes, lightening the blue by at least a shade.

"How can I resist the charm smile?" She gave in and opened her arms. He engulfed her gently, rubbing his cheek on the top of her head.

"You're gonna be alright Bones. I've never met a stronger woman than you. If you can survive getting buried alive, almost eaten by dogs, shot, blown up by a serial killer, and all of the other clearly painful things you've gone through in your life, you'll survive this. I promise, baby." He almost slapped himself when the pet name left his mouth. She probably wouldn't kick his ass, seeing as she was basically bedridden. But he bet even a slightly incapacitated Brennan could still punch him in the face.

He pulled back when the impending hit didn't land. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. But, she didn't let them fall. Instead, she blinked a few times, set her jaw and looked him with eyes that looked devoid of their usual spark. Her eyes appeared to have abandoned their normal cerulean in favor of dull gray. He'd never seen her eyes change so drastically. A few moments ago they'd been blue when she'd half smiled. Just like that, they were almost a lifeless gray. He decided that it was probably time to go get Ange, maybe she would help soften the walls the Bones had just built. Maybe she'd feel a little better. He impulsively pressed his lips to her cheek.

"I'll be back." She nodded at him, then turned towards the window. He decided that he'd probably sleep in the lobby tonight so he could be here in the morning when she woke up. He was wondering how comfortable the chairs were to sleep in. _But_, he thought, _there'd be pudding in the cafeteria._ He heaved out a loud sigh when he thought about the number of puddings he'd need to lift his mood. He turned the corner heading towards the waiting room and totally missed the weird look the on-duty nurse gave him.

**Thanks for bearing with me! I really tried to stay true to both Booth and Brennan's characters here. It's kind of hard when a situation like this hasn't arisen in the show. But, don't let anyone say I shy away from a challenge. I am headed back to school really soon and starting classes again, so my updating might be even more erratic than usual. Sorry guys!**

**Side note: Who else was totally annoyed to find that Bones wasn't on Thursday night because the President had to give his farewell address?! I almost cried! The only thing getting me through the next week is that there will be two new episodes next week. Oh, and who didn't love the "are you this spontaneous during real sex" comment Booth made in the spoiler for DTitPH??!! *sigh***


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi All! I wanted to say thank you for all of the reviews you guys have given me. It's nice to hear feedback! And I'm sorry that I made you guys wait so long. I made it longer than normal so that I could pay you guys back. Okay, so I honestly don't write any dialogue for Roxie because I don't know her character enough to write her and feel good about it. So she's here, just, in the background. Not that she's appropriate anymore… but cutting her out of the story isn't my plan yet.**

**I do apologize again for how long it took. I just had four midterms and probably 10 papers due in about two weeks… Talk about stress… Thank you all for waiting. **

Booth found Angela in the waiting room nursing what looked like her fifth cup of coffee, judging by the four empty Styrofoam cups next to her. With her lack of sleep and the massive amounts of caffeine in her system, she looked more than a little shaky and her eyes were rimmed in red.

"Ange." He said her name as he sat down next to her.

"Booth, how is she? Did you tell her? How'd she handle it?" She grabbed Booth's right hand and held onto it for dear life.

"Well, I didn't really know what to expect her to do. So, I guess she handled it alright. She only cried for a few minutes before her compartmentalization skills surfaced and the mask dropped back into place. She asked for you, though." He dropped his head, resting his chin on his chest. He honestly didn't have any precedent for this kind of situation that he could work off of. This wasn't like saving her from some psychopath just before he did something. This was him not being able to save her and having to try and pick up the pieces of a broken Brennan. "Angela, I don't know what to do, or say. I mean, she obviously doesn't want to talk about it. And I get that. I wouldn't want to talk about that either. But I'm… I'm scared that she's going to totally close herself off from everyone and everything. Do you think that'll happen?"

"I honestly don't know Booth. She's a tough woman. I've been her friend long enough to know that." She paused. "Did she ever tell you what happened to her in El Salvador?"

"Something happened to her in El Salvador?" He started mentally running through all of his and Bones' conversations trying to remember one where she even talked about El Salvador. Right, there'd been that case where they'd found Hector, a man who worked for a state Senator, had killed a girl by accident. He remembered the case so vividly because of the way Bones acted the entire time. It was a little off of her normal stoic self, but nothing to write home about.

"When she was in El Salvador, she was identifying the remains of a girl that had been thrown down a well. Soldiers showed up; she thought that they were there to protect her. They weren't. They ordered her to stop what she was doing. When she refused, they took her and threw her into a dirty, windowless cell. She was in there for three days, and everyday someone came in and made her believe that she was going to die. They told her they'd kill her and throw her down a well so no one would be able to find her, just like the girl she was trying to identify. She told me that she vowed that if she got out of there alive, that she was going to make sure that no one could make her feel like that again. That's why she attacked that stupid gangster; she was showing herself that she was out of that cell, and that she'd done what she told herself she was going to do. Then, something like this happens to her, while she's in her home town? This is probably killing her that after all the hell that she's gone through in her life, the foster families, being alone, everything, and she's still made to feel worthless, just something some asshole used and discarded in an alley." She glanced down, tears flowing freely from her eyes. Roxie leaned over and wiped Angela's cheeks with a tissue she'd pulled from her purse, even though tears were flowing down her own.

Through this whole speech, Booth's face had hardened, his jaw clenched and unclenched as his whole body tensed. He looked down and his knuckles were white where he gripped the chair. He'd had no idea that something like that had happened to her. His previous feeling of awe returned. How did this woman live through all of this? She was stronger than he'd known. No wonder she buried all of her emotions. He now understood the dull gray her eyes had become now. This was just another in a long line of terrible things that had happened in her life. When he found the guy that did this to her, the guy that ruined his four years of work to get her to open up, he was going to make sure this guy regret ever being born. And _then_ arrest him.

"Ange, she didn't remember a thing from last night. I had to tell her everything. The last thing she remembers is leaving the lab. She doesn't remember the club, she doesn't remember before the club, and she doesn't remember waking up in the alley and calling me." Angela's face crumpled anew. "What?" He looked at her questioningly. She grabbed another tissue from Roxie, wiped under her eyes and blew her nose. Then, she squared her shoulders and looked him directly in the eye.

"Alright, I'm going to tell you something that Brennan figured out last night. I usually wouldn't break her confidence like this, but I think you should really know. Maybe this will help you help her."

"What?" He was starting to get a little more than concerned.

"Last night, when I was over to Bren's apartment picking out her outfit, like I usually do, I found the dress that you picked out for her in Vegas. Very hot by the way." He blushed as the memories resurfaced. The one that he liked to focus on the most was where she pulled that wad of cash out of her dress. That was pretty amazing and so un-Bones-like, he's lucky his jaw didn't hit the floor and blow the whole case. "Anyway, she asked me what something you said to her on the plane to China meant."

"Huh?" He thought for a second, then realization dawned on his face even as a deeper blush crept up his cheeks. "Oh." He hung his head, studiously avoiding Angela's eyes. He had mistaken when he thought that Bones wouldn't even remember that. He couldn't even remember why he had said that. Actually, he didn't think he had a reason. He just walked in, found her in those glasses, and his mouth started saying what was in his head before his internal brain-to-mouth filter kicked in.

"Yeah. The librarian thing. And I thought the dress was hot, that was nothing in comparison. When I explained it to her, her rather brilliant mind went to work, and she kind of figured it out all on her own. Honest, I didn't even have to prod her that much."

"What? Figured what out on her own?" He did look at her this time.

"Only that you're totally in love with her. And don't even try to deny it." She held up a hand when he opened his mouth. "Remember me? I'm the heart of our little, what you've so aptly nicknamed, brain trust. And it's the heart that I know best. So, just tell me the truth. Do you love her?" He looked slightly panicked for a second as he tried to find a possibility that could get him out of this conversation. His brain was a traitor. The only thing it was coming up with was "yes." So, obviously his traitor mouth was going to blurt it out.

"Yes, Angela. Yes, I do love her." He was impressed with himself. That hadn't sounded remotely as strained as he thought it was going to.

"Good. She loves you too. She doesn't know it yet, but she'll figure it out. Well, she already did. So, I guess she'll figure it out again." She looked confused for a second, as if trying to figure out if she'd said it right. She nodded to herself then focused on Booth again. "Now, you go get something to eat, maybe some coffee, and I'll go see Bren." His eyes shimmered slightly as he let emotions wash over him that he'd held in check for a long time.

"Thanks Angela." He hugged her as she stood up, then watched as she made her way towards Bones' room. Booth leaned back into the chair and closed his eyes. Just as he nodded off for the first time in almost 48 hours, he heard his name called from the front of the waiting room. He looked up and found Bones' doctor at the door searching the room quizzically. He pulled himself out of the chair and made his way towards him.

"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth."

Brennan sat looking at the dismal walls in her hospital room. This color shouldn't be allowed to be used in here. Salmon shouldn't even count as a color. She looked out the window, hoping for a reprieve from the suffocating color on the walls, but the only view she had was of other buildings and concrete. She wanted to see some trees again. She sighed and looked around her room again in disgust. It was completely irrational to be mad at a color.

Her mind slowly filtered back to why she was in this room in the first place. She believed Booth. She trusted the man with her life, obviously. But, she had absolutely no recollection of last night, of going "clubbing" as Angela called it, of the attack, or of calling Booth. While she did believe Booth, she needed to gather her own proof. She needed evidence, that was just who she was. She swung her legs, rather painfully, off the edge of the bed and grabbed her IV stand. She, rather inelegantly, hobbled to where her chart was hanging off the bed frame. She had just grasped the chart when her doctor decided to make his appearance.

"Ah, Dr. Brennan, I see that you've woken up." He smiled. She huffed at him and tried to gracefully get back into bed. However, with her injuries, grace wasn't a thing she had. She tumbled into the bed, biting back a cry as she tugged on the stitches in her thigh. He nodded to the nurse that had followed him in to give her a hand.

"I just want to check your stitches, and if everything's looking alright, I actually see no problem in you going home within a couple of hours. I'll release you only if you can have someone spend the night with you, or spend the night with them, so they can wake you up every few hours. Also, you need to make an appointment with the clinic here at the hospital so you can get your stitches taken out and get the results to all of your test results."

"Okay. Thank you Doctor…" She looked for a nametag but couldn't find it on his scrubs.

"Michaels, Dr. Michaels. So when you're ready in about two hours, you can go ahead and head home. But I want to make sure you have someone you're staying with. I want to just have a quick chat with them about what to do. Who is it?"

She thought for a second. Who the hell could stay with her? Ange would be with Roxie tonight, and she really didn't want to ask Ange. It was going to be hard because Ange wouldn't let her take care of herself. She'd be talkative and upbeat, trying to lighten her mood. She could ask her dad. No, then she'd have to call him and explain what happened. She'd rather not make that phone call. That left…

"Um, Special Agent Seeley Booth is his name. He should be in the waiting room."

"Okay. I'll be back in a few hours with your instructions." With that he swept from the room. However, the nurse was still at her elbow working on her IV. She gently grasped above the IV in her arm and pulled it out.

"There you go dear, now you can move about a little bit more freely. Move carefully though. You don't want to rip out your stitches. It'll be uncomfortable to go to the bathroom until all your internal and external tearing heals up. Also, when you're ready to leave dear, the clothes you came in are in a bag under your bed."

She watched the nurse leave the room. She was finding it hard to keep her walls up when everyone kept mentioning what happened. She sighed. She thought about her decision to have Booth be the one that woke her up every few hours. She hoped that she hadn't overstepped her bounds. She had just figured that Booth would be the only person who would just let her be. He was the only person in a long time she was comfortable just being around, not talking, just being. She didn't feel the constant need to keep up the conversation or even look immaculate. She heaved another sigh as she thought of Angela's reaction to her decision. Maybe she just wouldn't tell her.

She looked around her rather annoying room and her eyes landed on her much sought after chart. She decided that now would be a good time to get her evidence, before she was discharged. She wanted to see all this for herself. She climbed awkwardly out of bed, and had just grasped it when Angela walked through the door, sympathetic smile in place. She wanted to scream in frustration.

"Sweetie, what're you doing out of bed?"

"Nothing, just stretching out my legs. They were getting cramped in this stupid hospital bed." She made her way _back_ around the damn bed, avoiding Angela's eyes so she couldn't see the pure annoyance swimming in hers.

"How are you feeling?" She clenched her fist at the question. She could just tell she was going to hear that for a long time. She wondered when life would finally go back to normal. _Maybe it won't_, she contemplated. _Maybe I'll always be Dr. Temperance Brennan, the rape victim._ She shook as that thought crossed her mind, then filed it away with everything else behind her painstakingly erected walls.

"I'm fine." She climbed back into bed, again. When she settled back into the pillows, she looked at Ange, who was looking at her incredulously. "What? I am fine. Honestly."

"Do you really want me to start on the ridiculousness of that statement?"

"No Ange. I…" She groaned. "I just… what do you want me to say? I don't remember any of it. So, it kind of feels like everyone is just making it up, lying to me. Like on that stupid show, Prank'd. I feel disgusting, like I haven't showered in days, and I want to wear real clothes. All I want is to go home. "She paused in her rant to gasp. She'd pushed all of that out in one sentence, not leaving anytime for Angela to interrupt. She looked up now, directly into her eyes.

"Well. I can understand that. And its Punk'd. The show you're thinking of." She stopped for a second, as if unsure how to continue. "Do you want me to go hurry the doctor up so you can leave?"

Brennan almost cried in relief. "My god, that would make my horrendous day that much better Ange. Really."

"Okay sweetie. I can do that for you." She walked over and hugged Brennan tight. Letting only a few tears leak through her clenched eyelids. When she pulled away, she swiped at them quickly. "I'll be right back."

Brennan watched her leave, then once again swung her legs out over the edge of her bed. She shuffled to the end, and had just extended her hand when Booth walked in. This time, she couldn't hold her annoyance in and let out and undignified moan. She threw her hands up in frustration and made her way to the bed and plopped down on it. Booth, as if sensing why she was annoyed, picked up the chart and handed it to her.

"Evidence right?" He looked at her, not with sympathy, but with knowing, and some other emotion she couldn't identify. It sparked a memory within her. Not a full one, to her annoyance, just a vague feeling of déjà vu that she almost knew what it was… once. She shook her head when she realized that she'd been staring into his eyes for about a minute now.

"Thank you." She said in an uncommonly shy voice. She looked down at the chart in her hand. She'd been trying her for the past hour to get her hands on it, and now that she had it, she didn't really want to know. She could feel those stupid tears start up in her eyes again. She glanced up at Booth and took reassurance in his deep brown eyes. She handed him her chart and shook her head, looking away as her tears fell of their own accord.

"Does Angela know you that you're staying with me?" He looked at her, a touch of his normal amusement playing in his eyes.

"No. Not yet. Although, she is talking to the doctor right now to see if he can shovel me out of here faster." The glanced at him sharply. "Don't tell her. If I stay with Ange tonight, I'm going have to…" He cut her off.

"Bones. It's fine. And I won't tell. I promise. Pinky swear." He held out his pinky to her, which puzzled her greatly.

"I don't know what that means." She watched as he grabbed her hand, curled her fingers into a fist and pulled out her pinky; he promptly hooked it with his.

"I promise not to tell your secret. The pinky swear is a binding promise. Going back on a pinky swear is like… whew. Not good, karmicly." He smiled his signature charm smile, trying to lift her spirits. She smiled back at him, opening her mouth to say something about how Karma had nothing to do with pinky swears. He saw it coming though, and she felt him place his finger over her lips. He grinned the straightened back up.

"So. You're staying with me tonight. I figure you can have my bed. I just changed my sheets recently, so you're in luck. Also, because Parker was over last weekend, which means my apartment is relatively clean. Don't want him scamperin' off to his mom talking about how awesome it is that my apartment is as messy as his room. Albeit, there are Tonka truck in my living room. There not mine. But I'll pick them up when we get home, no need anyone stepping on one of those bitches in the middle of the night." She laughed at this, and it felt good to laugh with Booth again, like nothing had changed. _Maybe_, she thought, _there is some merit to that saying laughter is the best medicine. _

**A/N: Okay. Soo, bear with me guys. It's Spring Break but my professors don't seem to think so. My updating will be sporadic and annoying. Also. I really had no good spot to end this at. And, any ideas on how the next chapter should go, tell me. I'm winging this next one.**

**ANYWAY! How effin' cute was Booth explaining to that kid how he's responsible for all of those baby's lives? Wow. I wish every guy thought that way…**


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